


is the beginning of time even a date?

by randomstorygenerator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthdays, Dean really likes baking but don't tell anyone, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomstorygenerator/pseuds/randomstorygenerator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Castiel's kind-of birthday, and Dean just really wants to make it special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	is the beginning of time even a date?

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a year ago for [dancetildawnmon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dancetildawnmon/pseuds/dancetildawnmon/works?fandom_id=27)'s birthday, and it only occurred to me recently (like, thirty minutes ago recently) to post it on AO3. So.

Dean exhales loudly as the timer beeps. He squints through the window, trying to see through the yellowed glass. _Fucking vintage, man,_ he thinks, disgruntled. He takes an oven mitt from the table and pulls open the oven door. He sniffs the air, decides he smells nothing bad, and reaches in to take the cake pan out. After prying the cake out of the pan and setting it on a plate to cool, he takes out the frosting he made last night. He’d snuck out of bed after Cas had fallen asleep to make it, and hid it as best he could in the refrigerator, hoping neither Cas nor Sam would see it when they left to get Cas some new clothes in the morning. It was meant to be a surprise, after all.

Dean pauses to sniff the cake again. He doesn’t smell anything bad - like raw-bad or burned-bad - so he decides to go ahead and smother it in chocolate frosting. He grins as he does it, feeling like a child smearing Vaseline over the mirror or paint over the neighbor’s fence. While he does it he wonders if he should poke a toothpick in it, like he saw his mom do with pies once. But then the icing part is almost done and really, Dean sees no reason he should mar the surface with a tiny toothpick-sized hole. It smells _fine_ , he tells himself firmly.

“It smells fine,” he says out loud. “Jesus, Winchester, how much more of a girl are you going to become?”

"You know I keep telling you that’s sexist," Sam says from the doorway, startling him. Dean spins around, almost knocking into the cake.

“ _Christ_ , Sammy, give a man some warning, will you?” he says irritably.

Sam just smirks at him and strolls into the kitchen, eyes on the cake. “What’s that for?”

Dean clears his throat. No way to not be awkward about this. “It’s uh, it’s for Cas.”

Sam raises an eyebrow that Dean can totally tell is struggling to stay non-judgmental. “You baked a cake for Cas?” He pauses, purses his lips. “You bake?”

"Hey," Dean snaps, affronted. "I’ll have you know that the apple pie last week was made by these two hands!"

"That was you? Huh." Sam rubs his chin. "I was wondering where you got it. Nothing storebought was gonna taste that fresh."

His brother’s words made Dean grin. “So that means this cake is gonna taste just as good.” When Sam looks skeptical, Dean shrugs. “What? Logic.”

"I dunno, Dean. Pretty sure cakes and pies bake differently." "Whatever man, you stick ‘em all in an oven just the same."

Sam hums a little, clearly dissatisfied with Dean’s logic, but reaches out for the cake anyway. ”Can I taste?”

"What? No!" Dean slaps his brother’s hand away. Stupid, annoying little brothers and their tendency to get underfoot _all the goddamn time._ "No, c’mon man, that’s for Cas. Bet you he’s never had a cake before."

Sam snaps his fingers like he’s remembered something. “Right. Why _did_ you bake that for Cas anyway? Something special I should know about?”

Dean coughs, embarrassed. He’s unwilling to admit it, but he’d rather not keep this from Sam - the guessing will never stop, and it’s gonna drive Dean nuts. “It’s - technically - his birthday.” Sam barks out a laugh. 

"His _birthday_? Dean, Cas has been around since the _beginning of time_. Does he even _have_ a birthday?” He huffs. “Is the beginning of time even a _date_?”

Dean fidgets. When Sam’s incredulous he tends to talk in italics, and that kinda annoys him. “He did mention that he would have been born around this time.”

Actually, Cas had said _created_ , and his exact words were, “Dean, I don’t understand why you're interrupting what you're doing, to ask what you're asking, but yes, if I had to put human time measurement to the beginning of creation then I would have been created around the end of February. I hope you appreciate the fact that I am doing complex mathematics for the sake of your - oh fuck, _fuck_ , Dean - “

Dean smiles a little to himself, remembering.

Just then Sam chokes and starts coughing.

Dean’s head snaps up, muscles tensed and ready for a fight. He’s scanning the area for enemies before realizing Sam’s holding a fork. While Dean was distracted Sam had gone and taken a forkful of the cake, _Cas_ ’ cake, and now he’s choking. Serves him right.

"Dean," Sam coughs out, " _don’t feed that to Cas_."

"What?"

"Dean, it’s dry as fuck," Sam manages before he’s overtaken by another coughing fit. He scrabbles for the refrigerator and takes a drink out of the first bottle he sees. Which turns out to be some of that horrible vegetable juice Cas loves, and Sam blanches. Still, it’s liquid, so he drinks as much as he can stomach before he finally puts it back in the fridge.

Dean waits through all of this, then points a finger at his brother. “What were you saying?”

"It’s _terrible_ , Dean. The cake stuck in my throat on the way down. Also, it tastes a lot like eggs. Eggs laced with espresso." Sam smacks his lips, expression turning thoughtful. "You did a good job with the frosting though. Nice and thick."

Dean flips his brother off, heart quietly sinking. Sam hated it so that means Cas - fuck, that means Cas is _here_ , in the bunker, and Dean’s out of time to buy him another cake. Shit, Winchester, step up your fucking _game._ “Sammy, where’s Cas?” Maybe Cas is squirreled away somewhere and Dean can sneak out for a while, drive to the nearest diner and - 

"Right here, Dean," Cas says from behind him.

Dean turns, pasting a smile on his face. “Hey Cas!”

And Sam, because he’s still a snotty little brother at heart, says, “Hey Cas, Dean made you a birthday cake. Happy birthday!”Dean can hear the shit-eating grin in his brother’s voice. Fuck Sam, seriously. He’d told mom he wanted a _puppy_.

Cas frowns, furrows forming in his forehead. “I do not have a birthday.”

"Yeah, well you said that if you did, it would be around this time, right? So why not start now that you’re human?” Dean says brightly, covering up his nervousness. He moves a little, tries to hide the cake behind him. 

"I suppose that makes sense." Cas starts forward, peering around Dean. "Is that chocolate?" He actually sounds excited, and Dean’s heart plummets to somewhere around his soles. "I tasted chocolate at a gas station on my way here," Cas continues, holding a finger out to scoop up a little frosting. He looks at Dean while popping the finger into his mouth, eyes bright, and Dean forces a smile. Cas’ first time to eat cake and he’d fucked it up. What’s new.

Meanwhile Cas, never ever one for personal boundaries, bless his fricking heart, had reached out and plucked Sam's fork from his hand. He cuts out a generous piece and pops it in his mouth. Dean and Sam wince in unison, waiting for the inevitable coughing fit.

There is none.

Instead Cas moans, bordering on pornographic. Dean’s breath hitches. All the blood in his face rushes downward. It actually makes him kind of dizzy.

"Dean, this is amazing," Cas says, mouth still full. Dean _wants_ to find the glimpse of half-eaten chocolate cake disgusting, he really does, but so help him God he thinks Cas is cute as fuck. He grins now, real and heartfelt.

"Why thank you, Cas," he says smugly, pointedly staring at Sam, who just huffs and shrugs. _There’s no accounting for taste_ , he mouths at Dean. Dean sticks his tongue out at him, because he’s a full-grown man and he can do what he wants. “You know, the recipe I used was pretty simple. No way you could fuck it up.”

"There’s every way you could fuck it up," Sam mutters under his breath. He claps Cas on the shoulder. "Well, anyway, glad you like it. I’m gonna, you know, go do stuff…" Sam gestures weakly, and leaves the kitchen, because he's a smart guy who went to Stanford and knows exactly when his brother's about to jump his ex-angel boyfriend. Dean turns his attention to Cas, who’s taken another forkful and is chewing away happily. _Fuck, he’s adorabl_ e, Dean thinks helplessly.

He reaches out and pushes the cake out of Cas’ reach, waits for him to swallow before reaching out and tugging him closer by his belt loops. Dean nuzzles Cas’ cheek. “I’m glad you like it, baby,” he says quietly, the endearment surprising both of them. “Happy birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> [This is the recipe that Dean used!](http://addapinch.com/cooking/the-best-chocolate-cake-recipe-ever/#axzz2unhlSuS5). I haven't tried it myself so I can't really vouch for it, but if _you_ try it let me know! Also I swear someday I will post a fic that I actually wrote less than three months ago. Someday. 
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://citiesinflight.tumblr.com).


End file.
